


At Last

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Post-Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6972400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Pippin came home to Great Smials, he did not laugh. Though his joy overflowed him like water and he sang as he rode to the wide doors, something held back the full tide of his happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Last

When Pippin came home to Great Smials, he did not laugh. Though his joy overflowed him like water and he sang as he rode to the wide doors, something held back the full tide of his happiness.

His mother saw him first. She shouted and ran to him, and she laughed as she cried, so all his kin who came to see the commotion laughed, too, and Pippin grinned as he slid off his tired pony, sweeping her up in a hard, hasty hug.

Paladin came down the steps quickly, and he looked his only son up and down, tears in his eyes, before he opened his arms. "Peregrin, my falcon," his father said as he held him. "Pippin."

It was when Pippin noticed that he was a handsbreadth taller than his Papa, Paladin's voice muffled against his neck and not spoken into his hair, that he laughed at last.

* * * * *

When Merry came home to Brandy Hall, he did not weep. His mother embraced him first, looking at him very hard, her green eyes full of things she did not say. She would eventually, he knew, but not just yet. But for now she shook her head at him, and smiled, and held his hand very tightly. 

She led him out of the Hall, still clasping his hand, and around the bulk of the hill. Into the barns, where he saw his father, face worn and quiet, eyes turned down to the harness he mended.

"Saradoc," said Esmeralda.

Then Merry was in his father's arms, his father's rough voice against him, felt as much as seen: "Merry-lad. Ah, Merry-lad."

It was when he noticed that he was a handsbreadth taller than his Da, Saradoc's voice muffled by his neck and not spoken against his brow, that he wept at last.


End file.
